Timothy started forward, ready to greet them.
But Mrs. Zimmerman had already walked up to Henry. “You said your mother is
the housekeeper?”
“And who are you?” Henry asked, having never met Mrs. Zimmerman before.
She’d spent most of the past years living abroad, only returning asionally—
and never with a chance to meet Timothy’s son.
Jessica quickly stood and slipped her arm through Mrs. Zimmerman’s. “Mom, why
are you up so early? You should have rested longer.”
“I was worried about your grandfather and Daisy,” Mrs. Zimmerman replied. “I just
checked on your grandfather. He’s lucid, can move his arms and legs—just a bit
weak, but he should be fine.”
Henry remembered when Sallie had taken him to the Zimmermans’ estate; that’s
when he’d learned his mother was actually part of this family.
So, the elegant woman in front of him must be Mr. Zimmerman’s mother—his
grandmother.
He looked up shyly. “Grandma.”
The word made Mrs. Zimmerman’s heart tremble for a split second; blood ties
couldn’t be ignored. But then she remembered this boy had called his own mother
the housekeeper. That anger red up again.
“A child who doesn’t respect his own mother has no right to call me Grandma. I
don’t consider someone socking in manners my grandson.”
The Zimmermans would never tolerate something like this.
Henry’s eyes filled with hurt. He’d already apologized to his mother, but she hadn’t
forgiven him. Now, he’d tried to reach out to his grandmother and was scolded
again.
Timothy crossed the room, and Henry immediately ran to him, wrapping his arms
around his father’s leg.
Seeing Timothy only made Mrs. Zimmerman’s irritation worse.
Still, she held it in and spoke coldly, “Take your son and leave. Don’t disrupt us
any further.”
“Mom, I’m sorry,” Timothy said quietly. “If a child acts out, the father is to me. If
you’re angry, take it out on me. I’ll ept whatever you have to say.”
He believed Henry was still young
and had realized his mistake; with
time, he’d learn. If they kept shutting
him out, it would only wound him
more deeply.
Timothy lifted Henry up, gently patting his back to calm him.
“And don’t call me Mom, either,” Mrs.
Zimmerman Snapped. “I’ve already
heard about your ns to divorce
Jessy from Vince. If you know the
me falls on the father, then take
your son and teach him properly.
What kind of son calls his own
mother the housekeeper? Is that
how you were raised?”
Worried that Mrs. Zimmerman might get even more upset, Timothy didn’t argue.
He turned, holding Henry tightly, and headed for the door.
Today was supposed to be about helping his son make amends.
He could only hope Jessica could see how much they both wanted to make things
right.
At the doorway, Timothy paused and looked back at Jessica. “Tomorrow is
Henry’s birthday. We’ll be at The Grand Celestia at noon. Will youe?”
Jessica gave no response.
“Mom, don’t you want to spend my birthday with me?” Henry’s voice broke.
Still nothing from Jessica.
With a heavy heart, Timothy carried Henry out of the hospital room.
As soon as they left, Jessica brushed away the tears in her eyes.
Her son hade to apologize—what mother’s heart wouldn’t soften?
Mrs. Zimmerman caught sight of Jessica’s trembling hand and felt a pang of
sympathy.
“Godmother,” Daisy called softly, her
voice weak. “Henry is your child. He
knows he was wrong. Can’t you
forgive him? My teacher always
says, it’s okay to make mistakes as
long as you own up to them and do
better next time.”
Daisy had seen Jessica crying and knew just how much she must love Henry.
Mrs. Zimmerman smiled warmly, moving to the bedside and stroking Daisy’s
cheek. “You really are such a thoughtful girl, Daisy.”
The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and
continue reading tomorrow, everyone!